


And Come to Death Willingly

by BigSciencyBrain



Series: Refuge [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Not Age of Ultron Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigSciencyBrain/pseuds/BigSciencyBrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the world, and Steve, reeling from the destruction of SHIELD and revelation of HYDRA's survival, the Avengers come together again. Steve is anxious to begin searching for the Winter Soldier, while the rest of the team are more concerned about Loki's missing scepter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Come to Death Willingly

**Author's Note:**

> Begins immediately after destruction of the Insight helicarriers in Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

Burning in his throat and lungs tugged Steve through a heavy fog; a soundless instinct deeply ingrained from battle told him that he wasn’t alone. He didn’t fight toward consciousness or struggle to move; he’d accepted the end – his end – back on the Helicarrier and now he was waiting for death to finally come for him.

“…west bank of the river, north of Memorial Bridge. Multiple gunshot wounds…”

Familiarity pricked at him through the haze of pain and shock; he knew that voice. His thoughts were sluggish. He could feel light pressure against his chest and abdomen; the pain began to ease. The heavy fabric of the old uniform was rough against his fingers and he spent several long moments trying to understand how he’d lost his glove. He reached up, his hand as heavy as lead, and felt for whoever it was that had found him. His left eye was already swollen shut and vision in his right was blurry, but he could make out the outline of a man kneeling beside him. Long, dark hair and pale skin; too slender to be Bucky.

But it couldn’t be... _Loki?_

“You're safe now,” the impossibility told him.

It had to be a hallucination. He was dying and his mind had chosen to fill his last moments with Loki. He let himself pretend it was more than an illusion until the darkness closed in around him.

**

The name on the band around his wrist was _John Smith_.

Steve remembered seeing Sam, remembered bits and pieces of conversations. He only managed to get out a few words here and there before he felt sleep creeping back in behind his eyes. It was a strange feeling, not unpleasant, to drift along just below consciousness as though floating in a pool with water covering his ears. He thought he could hear music. He almost thought he could hear the sound of the ocean in the distance, but knew that was impossible too.

Peace never lasted long enough.

**

Sam was talking, though half the words still sounded garbled, when Steve saw the familiar curve of his shield leaning against the wall of the hospital room.

“My shield,” he began, his voice still rough on his tongue. “How’d you find it?”

“Thing just showed up here one morning like a lost dog found it’s way home.” Sam shrugged. “Figured it was Natasha. You know anyone else who can come and go without anyone seeing ‘em?”

Steve didn’t respond. He knew at least one more person. “Survivors?”

“They’re still clearing up the wreckage, but they haven’t pulled out anyone with a metal arm yet.”

“He made it out. I know he did.”

**

“Who’s Loki?” Sam asked. Sunlight through the window told Steve it was late afternoon this time.

A dozen different answers went through Steve’s mind; the hallucination of Loki felt too real to talk about. Finally, he settled on an honest, but vague, explanation. “Someone I knew. From New York. Why’d you ask?”

“You’ve been saying his name in your sleep. Along with a few other things, made it pretty clear it was someone you care about. You want me to call him? Let him know you’re okay.”

Steve swallowed again, shaking his head. Weary, he finally turned and opened his eyes to look at Sam. “He’s dead.”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Could’ve sworn he was there. Guess the mind can play tricks on you.” His thoughts drifted to the motel in California and the sound of the waves against the sand. More than anything, he wanted to retreat to the cottage again and stay there. But he couldn’t go back until he knew Bucky was safe.

“I’m just glad you called for help. We might not have found you in time if you hadn’t told us where to look.”

Steve frowned. “I didn’t.” He watched the cascade of expressions on Sam’s face end in worry and caught the glance toward the nurses’ station beyond the window.

“You were pretty out of it. You must not remember.”

“Yeah. That must be it.” Steve looked away, his gaze falling on the shield again.

He didn’t want to think of Bucky out there, lost and confused. It was easier to drift back into the comforting darkness of sleep.

**

He dreamed of voices and the steady beeping of machines around him, at least he assumed they were dreams. He woke briefly when he was jostled and opened his eyes to see ceiling tiles passing by above him.

“Easy, big guy.” Sam’s voice came from the right, somewhere. “We’re taking you someplace safe, that’s all.”

Steve nodded and closed his eyes again. Perhaps HYDRA had found him or they simply believed that it might happen. He was vaguely aware of an ambulance ride and then the sun on his face; he kept his eyes closed, letting the others steer him where they needed him to go.

**

“Steve, Steve. Wake up.”

Gasping awake, he winced at the throbbing pain in his abdomen. Instinctively, he reached for the wound, but felt only the thin fabric of the hospital gown.

“Easy,” Natasha soothed.

There was another ambulance ride that he was pretty sure he wouldn’t remember and the noise of city traffic. He kept his eyes closed until he heard a familiar voice - Bruce Banner - greeting Natasha and Sam. He lifted his right hand enough to wave.

“How’re you feeling?” Bruce moved to his side, gaze roaming as he looked Steve over. “I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to move you so soon after surgery.”

“Surgery?” Steve blinked, trying to bring the room into focus.

“How did you think they got the bullets out of you?”

“Didn’t really think about it.”

“Just take it easy for a couple more days. You’ll be fine.”

The rest was a jumbled blur as they wheeled him into an elevator. On his floor, Sam and Bruce helped him out of the hospital bed and into sweats and a t-shirt. He ached by the time he eased himself down onto the bed and shooed them away, insisting that he was fine and needed to rest.

He wanted to go back to sleep; he wanted to stop fighting.

**

News broadcasts filled most of the holographic displays in Tony’s penthouse. Many of them were replaying footage of the Insight helicarriers falling from the sky and crashing into the Potomac River. Two makeshift tables had been thrown together to hold touch panels and provide a workstation. Bruce was frowning at one the screens, occasionally tapping at it as he worked. He gave Sam and Natasha a distracted wave when they stepped out of the elevator.

“Agent Romanov,” Tony said without looking up. “There’s fresh coffee, help yourself. Is that the new guy? With my wings? Gotta say, I never thought those would go anywhere. Apparently they couldn’t find anyone crazy enough to actually use them. Or so I was told.”

Natasha merely shrugged when Sam glanced at her in surprise. “Stark Industries created the Falcon system. You’ll get used to him.”

“To Tony Stark. Right.” Sam sounded skeptical and a little awed. “Hi. Sam Wilson.”

Tony waved them in, his attention still on the tablet in his hands. “Don’t be shy. JARVIS, run a scan so I can get some actual measurements for the upgrades.”

Prodding Sam forward, Natasha made a beeline for the coffee pot behind the bar. “Have you heard from the others?”

“Thor will be here in a couple days, courtesy of Air Mjolnir. Apparently his sidekick has been on walk-about so he was already in the States. Haven’t heard from Barton, you?”

She shook her head. “Wouldn’t expect to. He’s underground, deep cover. No extraction plan.” She filled two coffee mugs and carried them back to the workstation, handing one to Sam. “If he’s not back by Friday, I’ll go pull him out of whatever mess he’s gotten himself into. Clint’s not the one I’m worried about right now.”

“Right. Spangles.” Tony finally sat up straight, spinning the stool around to face them. “How is he?”

“Physically, he’ll be good as new in a few more days, but I’m worried.” She saw Sam frown and offered a brief explanation. “Steve had a breakdown after New York.”

Sam sighed heavily but didn’t seem all that surprised. “Am I preaching to the choir if I say he needs to get some help?”

“SHIELD provided a psychologist.”

Sam motioned to the news broadcasts. “You sure the doc was actually SHIELD?”

Natasha bit her lip, holding her coffee mug a little tighter. She’d considered the possibility already and wondered if Doctor Stern had helped Steve or made him worse. The phantom memories Steve had mentioned could have been planted by Stern to make him seem unbalanced, make it so SHIELD viewed him as a liability rather than an asset. “It seemed to help, but it’s a possibility. Steve thought he was remembering things he couldn't possibly have known or experienced. That’s one of the reasons I brought him here.”

“Think he’ll run off to San Francisco again?” Tony headed for the bar, one hand raking through his hair and rubbing at the back of his neck. “When he came back at Christmas and started working for SHIELD again, everything seemed to be fine. Then I turn on the news to this.” He gestured toward the screens with one hand and filled a coffee mug with the other. “You could have called. You have my direct line.”

Natasha shook her head. “No time. You were one of HYDRA’s targets, Tony. Both you and Bruce.”

Tony gave her a dark look. “I could’ve grounded those carriers the easy way. But massive explosions and property damage is much better, I can see why you went that route.”

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Take it up with Steve.”

“You think I won’t?”

“Tony,” Bruce said without looking up.

Tony closed his eyes, visibly reeling himself back in. “Right. Now we focus on what’s next. Whatever Steve’s deal is, he’s better here, with people he can trust.” He settled back into the chair with his coffee. “As for you, Mr. Sam Wilson, I’ve got a few ideas for a new set of wings. More durable, lighter, increase the propulsion. What do you think? Up for a little experimentation?”

Sam grinned. “Hell, yeah.”

Natasha set her coffee aside and started to get up. “I’ll leave you boys to your toys. Gonna check on Steve.”

“Let him sleep.” With a wave, Tony directed her attention to one of the screens. “I’ve got JARVIS combing through the intel you dumped on the internet. HYDRA’s good, I’ll give them that; but now I know what to look for, I can help take out the trash. In the meantime, talk to me about the Winter Soldier.”

“There isn’t much I can tell you. I might be able to call in a few favors back in Kiev, maybe get us a lead.”

Sam moved closer to the holographic displays. “Steve’s gonna go after him, you know he will. He’s not going to let this go.”

“That isn’t a good idea right now.” Natasha glanced sideways at Tony. “He’s having nightmares again, like before.” They’d almost lost Steve once and they weren’t about to lose him again. Whatever he saw in his dreams, he’d never told any of them, but they knew it was about New York; he always said Loki’s name.

“Crazy doesn’t leave the Tower, got it. But we need to start thinking about where to go from here. With SHIELD and with HYDRA.”

“Thought there wasn’t a SHIELD anymore,” Sam said over his shoulder.

Tony laughed. “It was a nice thought, but have you ever tried to dismantle an enormous government bureaucracy? Trust me, it doesn’t happen overnight. And you know Fury has to have secret hideaways stashed all over the globe. He has back up plans for his back up plans.”

Natasha scanned over the displays, seeing bits and pieces of yet another life broken into pieces. She’d gotten too comfortable tucked inside SHIELD. This was her wake up call as well. “There are still good people out there. They’re going to need help.”

Tony swiveled around, tapping against a tablet to bring up new displays. “It’ll be chaos. HYDRA has two choices, come out into the light or disappear down a rat hole. I doubt there’s much loyalty amongst thieves so they’ll probably do both. We focus on the team first, get the band back together, and go from there. You in?”

“You know I am.”

With a grin, Tony turned to Sam. “What about you?”

Sam gaped at them both. “Wait, you mean...the Avengers? You want me to join the Avengers?”

“That’s the general idea. If you think you can keep up.”

“I can keep up; you know I can keep up, but I’m no superhero.”

Tony shrugged. “You had Steve’s back, that’s good enough for me. Now, about those wings.”

**

It was raining when Steve woke and his mind was almost clear again. The night lights of the city were distorted and twisted by water beading and slipping down the glass; it reminded him of how much New York had changed. His stomach growled, making it clear that staying in bed wouldn’t be an option for much longer; he felt like he hadn’t eaten anything in days.

He winced as he sat up, trying not to make any sharp movements. “JARVIS?”

“Do you require assistance, Captain?”

“No,” he said quickly. He didn’t want them to worry about him, didn’t want anyone to have to take care of him when they were needed elsewhere. “The others?”

“In the thirty eighth floor research lab, sir. Would you like me to alert them?”

“No. Just wanted to know. Thanks.”

He looked around without really seeing. The space was bare; he’d taken everything with him when he moved to Washington D.C. He thought about that for awhile, trying to recall the titles of all the books he might have to replace if he couldn’t get them from his apartment.

Hunger got him to his feet and he was surprised to see that someone had thought far enough ahead to restock his kitchen with the basics. He felt shaky, but managed to throw together a pot of spaghetti noodles with a bottle of marinara sauce. It tasted better than the food the hospital had been feeding him and filled the hollowness in his stomach. His thoughts were clearer, if only by a little, after eating and he made his way carefully to the bathroom for a much needed shower.

He stripped away the t-shirt and sweat pants, inspecting each wound as he went. Stitches had been removed, but there were patches of surgical glue on his leg, back, and abdomen that held the wounds together while he healed. Once in the shower, he planted both hands against the tile and took deep breaths, letting the hot water sting against his skin.

_How many times have we done this?_

_Not enough._

Fingers trembling, he reached for the shampoo – half hoping it wouldn’t be there – and poured out enough to wash his hair. He was too tired to push the memories away.

_Whatever happens, it won’t be the end. Not for us._

He’d said that – _hadn’t he?_ – in the other lifetime that he’d lived and lost. It was impossible not to draw the comparison, not to ache inside when he thought about Bucky’s memories being taken away from him. He didn’t want to think about how they’d done it, didn’t want to imagine what Zola and HYDRA had done to Bucky to create the Winter Soldier. But he understood the sense of loss and not knowing what was lost, only that it was gone.

Fumbling with the knob to shut off the water, he felt his way out of the shower. His legs were rubbery and his feet unsteady when he stepped out and wrapped one of the over-sized towels around his waist.

Natasha’s choice to bring him to New York City had been a rational one; get him out of the spotlight, away from the prying eyes of Congress and the press alike; she’d picked a place that could be defended and not just by her. Beyond that, she’d probably meant it to be a political tactic as well; Natasha never had just one reason for doing anything. Although he understood her reasoning, New York was the last place he wanted to be. The longer he waited, the colder the trail would be and the less likely he’d be able to find Bucky. He had to figure out what HYDRA had done to him and if there was any way to bring back the Bucky he knew.

Someone had left a familiar, worn duffel bag at the foot of his bed. He found clean clothes for at least a week in the bag and a few toiletry items he hadn’t even remembered he would need. Wounds aching with each tug of muscle and skin, he eased himself into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

“Thirty eighth floor?” he asked as he pulled on a pair of tennis shoes.

“Yes, sir,” JARVIS responded immediately. “I must question your decision to leave your quarters, sir.”

“Just going to say hi and I’ll go right back to bed.”

“That would be advisable, sir.”

He found his way to the elevator and punched the button. Half of him hoped Natasha had sent Sam back to Washington D.C., where he might not get dragged into the insanity that came with the ragtag bunch of crazies called the Avengers. But he was pretty sure Sam wouldn’t have gone without a fight and, as much as he’d bet on Natasha to fight dirty and with tranquilizers, he felt better thinking Sam would be around. The elevator coasted smoothly to a halt and dinged, doors opening, before he’d sorted through his tired thoughts. That was nothing new; he’d been used to running on too little sleep and not enough time to think during the War. Some things never changed. He brushed ineffectively at his hair as he started down the corridor, listening and glancing through open doorways for the others. It wasn’t far before he heard voices.

“I’ve checked the files a dozen times, it wasn’t in the Fridge when HYDRA took it.” That was Bruce’s voice. “Which means they must’ve taken it earlier, maybe even months ago.”

“That’s great,” Tony mumbled, sounding like he was speaking through a mouthful of food. “Hopefully they don’t know how to use it.”

Steve reached for the door frame to steady himself. He saw Tony and Bruce; Tony’s feet were propped up on a chair and he was stuffing Lo Mein into his mouth with a pair of chopsticks. Bruce was to Tony’s left, jotting down notes in a bound notebook. He didn’t recognize the petite woman with long brown hair sitting across the table from Tony. Sam was seated toward the other end of the table, next to Brandr, and eating what looked like Orange Chicken.

Sam saw him first. He swallowed quickly and got up. “You okay, man? We didn’t want to wake you up. Are you hungry?”

Steve managed a smile. Despite having already eaten, he didn’t protest when Sam waved him toward a chair and pushed various cartons of Chinese takeout his direction. “Thanks. What’s going on?”

“We’re cleaning up the mess you made,” Tony said wryly, but without any real ire in his voice. “HYDRA took the Fridge, which means they got their hands on all the weird and unusual SHIELD’s been collecting.”

Steve only nodded. He picked up a pair of chopsticks and began to poke at a carton of chicken. “Natasha?”

“Went to dig Barton out of whatever mess he’s gotten himself into.”

“Thor went with her,” the petite woman added quickly. She smiled and held out her hand over the table. “I’m Jane.”

“Jane Foster, right.” Steve stood up and reached for her hand, the pieces falling into place. “Steve Rogers.”

“We’re focused on the Chitauri scepter right now.” She held up a picture of Loki with the scepter. “Bruce and Tony are scanning for it, like they did before, but it puts out a much weaker signal than the Tesseract itself.”

Steve stared numbly at the picture, hoping that his shock at confronting an image of Loki wasn’t apparent on his face. Finally, he nodded and turned his attention back to the chicken. “They’ll have more than one base. They always did before. Never put all the eggs in one basket. But it’s a start.” Briefly, he considered the insane hope that recovering the scepter might allow him to get his memories back.

“There are scattered reports coming in from remaining SHIELD units.” Bruce tugged his glasses off and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “Some seem to be having success in weeding out HYDRA. It’s civil war out there right now. Agents against agents.”

Tony finished off the Lo Mein and set the carton aside. “I’m working on a way to set up secure communications for those we can find. Fury will help get the word out.”

“Good. That’ll save lives. Thanks Tony.” Steve was uncertain in his place among them now. With no SHIELD, he wasn’t sure there was still an Avengers Initiative; if there was, since he was the one who had caused the chaos they were fighting, he wasn’t sure he should be the one to lead them.

“And then there’s this guy.” Tony waved and an image of the Winter Soldier suddenly blazed to life on the large screen on the wall behind him. “Sam says you’re pretty invested.”

“He’s my friend.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “He’s a HYDRA assassin.”

Steve met Tony’s gaze. “HYDRA did something to him. Mind control, brain washing, I don’t know. The Bucky that I knew, the Bucky that your father knew, died in the War. The Winter Soldier is what HYDRA turned Bucky into. He’s just as much a victim here as anyone.”

A muscle in Tony’s jaw worked, but he didn’t say anything. Finally, he dropped his feet off of the chair and stood up. “Natasha thought she might be able to call in a couple favors, maybe help you find him. Odds are, we won’t be the only ones looking.”

Steve only nodded, watching the tense line of Tony’s shoulders as he headed for a workstation against the wall. The sturdy work table was littered with pieces of robotics and various tools. Tony picked up what was a random circuit to Steve and settled onto one of the stools, reaching for a pair of pliers. Unsure if mentioning Howard had been the right thing to do, Steve turned back to the others. He craned his neck to look at the various tablets and notepads scattered over the table, trying to catch up on what the others had been studying while he’d been sleeping.

“We think,” Jane began, glancing quickly to Bruce. “We can probably help him, if you do find him. Can you tell us anything? Even the littlest thing might help us undo what they did.”

“He didn’t know his own name. Didn’t know who I was. But I think, maybe at the end, maybe he started to remember. He could’ve killed me and he didn’t.” Steve felt tired. It was a bone-aching kind of tired punctuated by each bruise and bullet wound. “He said I was his mission. Not much other than that.”

Bruce leaned forward on the table, glasses held loosely in his hands. “HYDRA kept him hidden, controlled. That means they held him somewhere when they didn’t have a mission for him. If we can find the where, we might be able to figure out the how.”

“We’re looking through all the data.” Jane gestured toward everything on the table. “But it’s decades of information. It’s going to take time.”

“What happens when no one’s there to give him a mission?” Sam asked.

Bruce shook his head. “He may have a kind of backup protocol to follow if he loses contact. Depends on what kind of condition his mind is in. We don’t really have any way of knowing. We’re tracking news and crime reports too, in case someone sees him. A guy with a metal arm stands out.”

It was easy enough to read between the lines and know Bruce thought there was more than a chance that Bucky would be dangerous; they might end up following a trail of violence and murder. The idea didn’t track with Steve though. HYDRA created the Winter Soldier to be their invisible hand of Fate; even if all of their other conditioning failed, it was possible that the directive to remain under the radar would remain.

“We’ll find him,” Steve said with more conviction than he felt.

Brandr spoke for the first time. “Perhaps the loss of his memories is a kindness. If this HYDRA turned him into their weapon, he may not wish to remember who he was before.”

“No.” Steve shook his head. “He would want to know who he is.”

“Or is it you that you wish him to remember?” Brandr asked. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to his words.

Words were tumbling out before Steve could think better of it. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to have your memories taken away? To have part of your life ripped out of you. Do you know what that feels like?”

Brandr looked away. “I can imagine it is unforgivable.”

"Damn right it is."

Sam put a hand on Steve’s forearm. “Come on, Steve. You look like something the cat dragged in and you’re no good to anyone until you get some rest. When you’re ready to get back out there, we’ll go after him.”

Steve didn’t resist Sam’s gentle guidance. He was angry with HYDRA for what they’d done to Bucky, but he could feel a deeply personal unhappiness simmering beneath. Objectively, he knew he was projecting his own anger at having his memories taken away by Loki, but he was certain that Bucky would want to remember. He swayed a little as he turned for the door and Sam was immediately at his side to steady him.

They didn’t speak on the way back to his floor or as Sam made them both tea and insisted that Steve lie down on the couch. Sam seemed to understand intuitively that Steve didn’t want to be alone; he settled into an armchair with the remote control and argued amiably with JARVIS about what was playing on various TV channels.

**

“How are we going to tackle this?” Bruce asked once Steve and Sam were gone.

“Let Cap go after his friend.” Tony turned away from the table, still working at the chunk of electronics in his hand. “His boy-toy can go with him. They’ll want to keep a low profile anyway.”

Brandr frowned. “Boy toy?”

“I’m sure they’re just good _friends_ ,” Tony said sarcastically.

Bruce gave him a look. “Come on, Tony.”

“Right. None of my business, not my closet.” Tony tossed what he’d been working on back onto the table. “I’ve got communicators for us and a few spares. We start locating the SHIELD holdouts and do what we can. Then we follow HYDRA’s rats into the sewer.” He pointed to the picture of Loki on the table. “They wouldn’t have given that to some low-level HYDRA lab monkey. Whoever’s got it, they’re going to have information we need.”

Bruce frowned thoughtfully, flipping through his notebook. “We don’t have access to all the labs that SHIELD did, it’s going to be harder to track the signal this puts out. I don’t think we’ll be able to find it from here, unless, by some miracle, they decided to hide it in New York City.”

“I may be of use in your search.” Brandr eyed one of the pictures of the scepter. “I am not as skilled as Loki, but I know a little of magic.”

Tony arched an eyebrow. “And here I thought you Asgardians weren’t good for anything other than hitting people and lifting heavy things.”

“Loki was known as the Master of Magic. The Queen herself was his teacher and she was the most skilled sorceress Asgard has ever known.” Brandr looked up, seemingly uncomfortable with the sudden attention. “I may not have his training or his power, but I believe I will be able to control this scepter should we find it.”

“We’ll take all the help we can get.” Bruce set his notebook down. “We should be able to rule out New York soon enough, but we’ll have to get creative after that.”

“What about a portable detector? Small enough to carry.” Jane tapped her pen against the table for several moments. “We need a decent range. What do you think? Fifty miles? Otherwise we could walk right by and never know.”

Tony perked up at the challenge. “Sounds like fun. I can have something ready to go by morning.”

“We should wait for the others,” Bruce cautioned.

Tony waved off his concern. “I’ll make two. One for me and you, one for Jane and Brandr.”

“I really should wait for Thor,” Jane began.

“We’ll leave a note.” Tony started for the door, already rattling off what he thought they’d need to create portable scepter trackers. He leaned back through the doorway when he realized no one was following him. “Coming, Doctor Foster?”

Jane gathered up her notes in a flurry of paper and post it notes. “Just a second.”

“Don’t let him drink all the coffee,” Bruce called as she hurried from the room. That left him alone with Brandr.

He liked Brandr well enough, but there was something about him that he’d never been able to put his finger on. Maybe it was just the Other Guy’s general dislike of Asgardians, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling the Hulk didn’t like Brandr in particular. On the other hand, he hadn’t been lying; without the support of SHIELD and actively fighting a newly emerged HYDRA, they needed all the help they could get.

“Boy toy,” Brandr began slowly. “Stark was insinuating the Captain is involved with this Sam Wilson. That they are lovers.”

“In a crude and disrespectful way, yes.” Bruce tried to smile. “I wouldn’t worry too much about trying to understand what comes out of Tony’s mouth. At least a third of it is just noise.”

Brandr seemed to consider that. “It is good the Captain has found happiness.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. Tony was just…being Tony. He didn’t mean anything.” Bruce watched Brandr stare at the empty doorway and the expressions that crossed his face. He seemed to oscillate between unhappy and haunted, until the two blended into a look of sorrowful resignation.

Finally, Brandr turned his face away and reached out for the picture of Loki. “What can I do to help?”

“For now, all we can do is wait, unless you want to help Tony.” When another pained expression crossed Brandr’s face, Bruce hurried to offer an alternative he thought might appeal more to an Asgardian warrior. “The Winter Soldier was last seen in Washington DC five days ago. If you’re up for a little detective work. It’ll be a few more days before Steve’s back on his feet and if there is any evidence left, it might not be there for much longer.” Somehow, he didn’t think Brandr liked that suggestion any better but, after a moment, he nodded solemnly.

“I will search for the Captain’s lost friend. That much, I can do.”

Bruce sat in silence after Brandr left the room, staring at the table without seeing any of the documents in front of him. They’d all wondered why Brandr had chosen to follow Thor to Earth. To hear Thor tell of it, time spent on such a backwater Realm was considered a punishment. Now that he thought about it, Steve was the only one Brandr had seemed to take any real interest in. Maybe it was simple; maybe Brandr just _liked_ Steve.

With a sigh, Bruce gathered up his notes. “Poor bastard.”


End file.
